


And Back Again

by Star_Crab



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Vikings, kind of an AU, takes place before 4B
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Crab/pseuds/Star_Crab





	And Back Again

_ Torin Sveinsson was laughing as his sister attempted archery with his bow. He knew it was too heavy for her, seeing as she if only of eight years compared to his nineteen, but she was so excited that they had a day together without interruptions from King Ragnar and the planning of raids to come. Especially so since it was her birthday. (He asked not to be interrupted on this day, but that is only for him to know.) His laugh is deep from his chest like their father’s was as he stands walking to his sister, his gift to her hidden behind his back. _

_ “Hilde,” he says chuckling, “mine is much too heavy for a girl of your size and age.”  _

_ The girl glares up at him. “No! If I am to be like you, mother, and father, I need to practice! Especially if I am to join you to go to Paris with King Ragnar!”  _

_ Torin ruffles her hair and tugs on one of her braids with a smile. “I’m afraid you won’t be going with me to Paris,  _ lille en _. You need to stay here with Widow Ingrid until I return. Besides, you do not have enough practice with a bow. Mine is too heavy.”  _

_ She squeals loudly when he pulls a bow from behind his back with a quiver wrapped to it. It was measured to her size and he had already paid the bowyer ahead when she needs a new size once she was finished growing. In the wood engraved is the names of their parents. The quiver had the animals of the goddess Skadi, a large white wolf with dark red eyes staring at whoever would be behind the girl. _

_ “Practice with this one, it might be easier to draw,” Torin suggests as she nochs an arrow. “Straighten your arm and look with both eyes, so stop closing one, Hilde.”  _

_ Hilde opens her right eye, knuckles pressing against her cheek as she aims at the truck of the tree where a poorly drawn smiley face was mounted. With a small twitch, the arrow flies right,  and misses. With a grunt, she nochs and draws another arrow, releasing, and missing again.  _

_ Time passes quickly as the arrows fly, most of them missing their intended target, but a few sticking to the trunk of the pine tree. Hilde gives a short shout of anger as her brother again laughs at her. She turns and faces him.  _

_ “This isn’t funny, Torin! If I cannot hit this target, how am I supposed to join you on raids and see England for myself? How can I make Madir and Fadir proud?” She drops the bow, pressing her hands to her eyes as she cries in frustration.  _

_ Torin holds his sister close to his chest, rocking her in his arms as he cradles her humming a a song their mother used to sing to help them sleep. She sobs against him until they fade into hiccups that make it hard for her to breathe at times. His hands pet through her hair, sometimes catching on knots that he would detangle with his fingers.  _

_ “Oh my precious, Hilde,” he cooes. “They are already proud of you, and as am I. True you are small and without practice, but you are mighty.  Skadi herself has blessed you. You were young, but you were blessed by a goddess, her animal coming to you and bringing you home in the cold winter. I believe that with her blessing, you will be one of the greatest archers the Vikings have ever seen.”  _

_ Since that day, whenever she could, the girl was out in the woods practicing and honing her skills in archery. Her brother made sure to teach her skills with a sword and an axe once archery was something she could master on her own. Days turned to months, and then finally the months passed into when it was time for the raid of Paris.  _

_ Hilde held her brother tightly as they stood on the docks, everyone around them bustles to set sail out of the fjord and into the open ocean.  She sniffles and kisses his cheek once they part from their tight embrace.  _

_ “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back, lille en,” he says dropping his rolls and bag into the boat.  _

_ “Hard to do when you’re taking it all with you,” she quips back with a sad smile. “May the gods bring you back to me, Torin Sveinsson.”  _

_ She stands at the docks until it is dark, her breath materializing in white puffs of smoke. Her hands are trembling without her gloves and the cloak she had managed to sneak into his bed roll without him noticing along with a carving of Skadi that she had made months ago instead of helping the Widow Ingrid sweep and clean the home.  _

_ “It is not safe for you to be out here in the cold,” the Queen says from behind her. “Your brother was good friends with my husband, come and warm yourself in my hall.”  _

 

_ When the boats were spotted, Hilde was the first one to the docks, the young princes right after her as they race to the end of the main pier. Her bow and quiver strapped to her back and her brother’s favorite snack in her hands ready to give to him upon his return.  _

_ The boats are tied to the piers, Ragnar hugging his sons and kissing his wife before leaving to the great hall. Many men and women pass her until Bjorn kneels in front of her, with a shield in and a carving of the goddess and her wolf in his hands. He apologizes for her loss as she lets out an anguished scream, falling to her knees on the dock and the oldest Ragnarsson picks her up. One of the men picks up Torin’s belongings, following Bjorn to the great hall with Hilde crying in his arms.  _

_ Bjorn places her in his own bed, pulling the furs up to her chin. She had fallen asleep, exhausting herself with her sobs and fighting against his chest. He places her bow and quiver on the table at the end of his bed. He kisses her forehead and apologizes once more.  _

 

“Can’t catch me, Hvitserk!” she shouts out as he chases her through the woods. She holds her bow, pressing her back against a tree with an arrow ready to loose when the prince catches up with her. 

It was been six years since the raids on Paris. Six years since Hilde became the only one left of her family line. Six years since Ragnar had disappeared. Five years since the Widow Ingred passed leaving Hilde alone and five years since Aslaug had taken the girl in as her own child. Five years since she was moved into the queen’s home, her room across from Ubbe’s and Hvitserk’s. Five years since they all started training to fight together. Five years. 

To Sigurd and Ivar, Hilde is just as much a sister to them as they are brothers. The five learned together, fought together, and played together. Each had their games and teasings. For years, Hvitserk would always pull her braids, he still does but only on special occasions. Hilde herself would hide his and Ubbe’s belts 

His laughter is loud as he chases after her, jumping high over bushes and fallen logs. He knows her tricks and knows that she is hiding somewhere. After all the years, Hvitserk knows her better than most would think. The prince just has to find her before his brothers do. 

It is a simple game of hide and tag with simple rules that is Hilde is caught by either of the brothers, she must serve them at that night’s feast. Ubbe had lost the game before which made for a fun night of teasing him and asking if he wished to wear one of Hilde’s dresses. They have played this game many times over the years when they could, mostly when Aslaug would take Ivar to coddle her youngest child and they could run amuck without worrying of him and his legs. Most times, they rules would change and if one of the sons of Ragnar caught her he is deemed the winner and the other brothers have to serve their table at the feast. 

From in front of her, Hilde can hear the shouts of Sigurd and Ubbe as the footsteps of Hvitserk grew louder from behind her. Damn them for teaming together against her. She only has a at most a minute before they are upon her so Hilde straps her bow across her back and jumps as high as she can to pull herself onto a branch of one of the stretching trees. She pulls her feet up and clambers to a high branch just as the three brothers meet together where she was just standing. 

“She’s a quick one,” Sigurd pants, placing his hands on his knees and hunching over slightly so he can catch his breath. “Where'd you think she ran off to?” 

“Can’t too far off, she trip and her ankle’s sore,” Hvitserk informs them looking up at the canopy, but luckily in the opposite direction that Hilde had climbed. “First one to find her wins!” And he sprints off towards the creek that runs through the woods. 

He pauses a moment, ducking behind a thick log and listens as his brothers scuttle off and shoving each other out of the way. He waits a few more minutes and smirks at the sound of feet touching the ground, a muffled thud of a body’s weight dropping to the floor of the forest. Clever, Hvitserk thinks moving from his hiding spot. He can see her looking around in a small feat of victory. 

The prince may not be a hunter like his friend or his older brother Ubbe, but Hvitserk knows when to be quiet and how to hide the sounds of his steps. So he does just that while walking up behind her and making her scream as he tackles her from behind into a pile of leaves. They both laugh as they roll in the leaves before stopping at the hard roots of a spruce tree. He rests above her, his weight keeping her pressed to the dirt. 

“Move, the roots hurt my back,” Hilde whines trying to push him off of her, but he drops his full weight onto her making the woman groan. “You son of a goat, I swear-” 

Hvitserk presses his hand to her mouth and looks up for a moment listening for his

brothers. “We can make it back to the cabin if we are sneaky. My brothers will be out here for hours looking for you.” 

“And you think that we can fool Ubbe?” 

“Together? Yes.”

* * *

 

 

The hunting cabin is empty when they return, but it does not take long for Ubbe and Sigurd to arrive after them after figuring out their plan of sneaking away as they accomplished. Both brothers complain of their cheating games while lounging across the furs on the floor as Hilde serves them ale. (It becomes messy after she throws one of the cups at them for an inappropriate joke, but still they all laugh at the joke as well as Sigurd’s wet hair.)

It is not long after that when Ivar makes his appearance, the cabin’s door being slammed open by the cripple who has a look of seething anger on his face as he crawls in with dirt and mud tracked all over him. Hilde hands him a horn of mead and his murderous expression softens to a smile at her kind gesture. 

“So who is serving at the feast tonight?” He already knows the answer but revels in Ubbe’s and Sigurd’s obvious embarrassment. “I assume Hvitserk and Hilde won your silly games.” 

“They both will be serving us tonight,” Hvitserk gloats, pulling her to his lap with an arm around Hilde’s waist. His touchiness with the woman makes his brothers pause a moment to stare. “Hilde will be sitting with us tonight as well.” 

“Doesn’t she always?” 

“Show’s how much you pay attention, Sigurd,” Ubbe says after a long sip of his ale, still eyeing Hilde in his brother’s lap. “Last two she sat with that one boy.” 

“The one who stammers over his sentence when she looks at him or the blacksmith’s boy?” 

Ivar laughs. “Which one do you think?” 

Shoving herself from Hvitserk, who is currently laughing, Hilde sits closer to Ubbe, who at least stops with his teasing. “You are all horrible, or is it hard for people to find me attractive?” 

Ubbe answers quickly, “Not at all, Hilde, but they are only boys.” 

“Compared to who?” she questions hotly. “You? Last I checked you were all still boys just as green.” 

Sigurd and Ivar burst into laughter at the eldests red face despite the barb against them as well causing for Hvitserk to get involved. Their voices joining again as they all talk over each other telling untrue stories about their times apart from each other and with Hilde. Though, Hvitserk pauses as his brothers argue, looking for their friend.

“Where is Hilde? She was just here a moment ago.” 

The oldest, glances to where she was supposed to be sitting next to him, spotting that her bow and quiver was gone as well. “Perhaps she got tired of hearing you all fight,” he suggests, standing. “Come, let us find her so she does not get lost.” 

The four brothers followed her boot prints that were scarce, having taken big steps to avoid too many tracks. Sigurd pressed his fingers against a tree where a piece of bark had been cut into a rune. Whistling, his brothers began to follow the third youngest down a trail and pass a creek where Hvitserk sprinted ahead with a worried expression. Ubbe follows, adjusting Ivar on his back so he could run while carrying their youngest brother through the woods. 

Hvitserk holds up their friend’s satchel. “She has to be near here. Sigurd, follow the creek North while Ubbe and Ivar follow South. I’ll look around here. She is probably not far.” 

The second oldest waits until his brothers had disappeared beyond the trees before walking through the water of the creek to go westward beyond the trees where he knew a small clearing was. He is careful not to step on any of the branches that litter the forest floor to not scare anything, or hopefully anyone, around.  Breaching the clearing, he can see a bow and quiver left carefully leaning against a fallen tree along with a bear fur cloak. Smirking, Hvitserk continues his hunt for his childhood friend. Though, when he finds her, it is not how he suspected to find the shieldmaiden. 

Beyond the trees he can see her looking at something and holding out her hand to pet it. Creeping around another tree, he can see butterflies, all different colors flying about. Some have landed on the trees and some of the stumps that were overgrown with moss. Her fingers, with a gentleness he had not seen before, reaches further towards the stump and she giggles as one of the butterflies flutters down and lands on the tip of her finger. 

He leans his shoulder against the tree as she lifts her hand to look closer at the butterfly on her fingers, smiling as another lands on her shoulder, her wrist, and at one point one lands on her nose. 

“Well, isn’t this a sight,” Ubbe says walking up from behind his brother, Ivar still on his back. 

“Am I the last to find her?” asks Sigurd grinning, the cocky expression softening when he sees Hilde with the butterflies ahead of them. “She is-”

“Beautiful,” Ivar finishes, mostly to himself, but his brothers nod in agreement to his statement. 

“I haven’t seen her this happy since her brother.” Ubbe voices. “She is still healing from that heartbreak. Let us give her this.” 

Hvitserk, who cannot stop staring, walks forward slightly. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe. Tell mother I’ll be late for dinner.” 

With only partial protests from Ivar, the three brothers leave Hvitserk and his closest friend in the woods. He lets out a breath and walks towards the woman. Her head is slightly turned away from him, focussing solely on the insects around her as they flapped their paper thin wings colored by the gods themselves. He is able to see the light dusting of freckles long her neck that disappeared beneath the cloth of her tunic. The wisps of her hair that are not tucked away in her braids curl in the heat of the summer air. He touches her shoulder gentle, not to scare her. 

“There is no need for that, Hvitserk,” she says glancing over her shoulder, butterfly still on her fingertips. “I have known you and your brothers were there. You four have never been the most quiet when it came to hunting.” 

The young prince gives her small laugh with a smile. “What made you wander, Hilde?” 

Hilde sits on the stumps, her hand gently ushering away the butterflies resting there. They fly around and above their heads as Hvitserk kneels before her, holding her hands in his. “Your bickering reminded me of Torin is all. I only needed a moment for myself and my thoughts when the butterflies appeared.” 

Hvitserk heard stories of Torin Sveinsson and how he fought with his father Ragnar in the raids against the Saxons, but had died when they tried to invade Frankia. They were only children, but he clearly remembers her scream when they brought her brother’s shield and axe to her. Torin was all she had left after their parents had died. He knew that an old widow had taken her in and her sons had taught her to fight while the widow taught her to sew, cook, and other homely chores. Hvitserk remembers the day she started fighting with he and his brothers. It started as a simple archery competition between the four boys when an arrow had come whizzing pass them all hitting the center of their homemade target. They were all friends since, each of them having something to do together when the others were too busy. 

With Sigurd, they would tell stories with playing various instruments; Ubbe, the pair would go on a hunt that would last a week and would return carrying rabbits on their belts and an elk over Ubbe’s shoulder. Ivar and Hilde would more often than not spar, fighting until they could not breathe and then return to the hall to drink and eat until they were dizzy. Hvitserk though, he would always prefer the time he got to spend with her. The two of them would go riding together, leaving the city of Kattegat behind along with their problems and worries for at least a few hours just talking with each other. No brothers to interrupt, just time to spend with his fondest friend. Even now, this time he is able to spend with her is precious to him. 

“Hvitserk-” and his thought are broken by her soft voice. Her hand run through his hair as he begins to rest his head against her knees. “Do you think there is something wrong with me?”

He looks up at her, green eyes wide in shock. “Why would you think that?” 

Hilde lets out a breath, hands pausing in their pets through his hair. “All of who I know has been blessed by the gods, but since I can remember, the gods have taken everything from me. My parents, my brother. The Seer told me I was a miracle child, my parents were to only have my brother, but ended up having me as well. Is it because that I was born I brought the wrath of the gods upon my family? Svein family is gone when I die. If I marry, I take their name, but who would want to marry a woman who only brings tragedy wherever she goes?” 

The desolation in her voice breaks his heart as he tries to find the words to explain how she is not a tragedy, but a woman who has had slight misfortune at too young of an age. He wants to tell her that anyone will be lucky to call her wife, that he can name five people off the top of his head who will marry her in a heartbeat. He wants to tell her that he and his brothers will gladly -- no. He will not tell her that. It is much too personal. 

But, he does wipes his hands across her face to remove the tears and presses his lips to her forehead in a comforting kiss. “Any man would be lucky to have the best archer of Kattegat, of Norway, in their beds. My brothers are lucky to even know you. I am lucky enough to call you my closest friend, Hilde Sveinsdottir. The Seer is a wrinkly, bitter old man who does not know a gift when he sees one.” 

“But he communes with the gods, Hvitserk,” she counters. “Only my brother was to be born.” 

He smiles at her. “But, Frigg smiled upon your family and gave them a daughter. A daughter blessed by Skadi with her bow and arrow. You are blessed by the gods even if you do not see it.”


End file.
